


Arisen

by Ritteranfanger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, Genres: Action and Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27272980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ritteranfanger/pseuds/Ritteranfanger
Summary: Yet another Fanfiction story beginning during the Triwizard Tournament, this one also involves Elements from Dragon's Dogma and Interdimensional travel!Actual Summary:The return of the Triwizard tournament is a massive undertaking, the whole of Europe is excited and looking forward to watching and listening, but the champion selection ceremony is disrupted when the name of a boy, long believed to be dead, emerges from The Goblet Of Fire as a fourth champion.
Kudos: 3





	Arisen

**Author's Note:**

> Some elements of this story are lifted directly from Dragon's Dogma, though I don't think it qualifies as a crossover.  
> Feel free to comment and/or review, I'll read them and I might respond, the odds of that aren't terribly good though.

Chapter One

Albus Dumbledore was a good man, at least he did his best to be, he was also an old man, one had only to look at his long white hair and equally long white beard to see that fact laid plain. Today was the day that many had been hoping for, 31st October 1994. The day Albus and many others had been working tirelessly toward for quite some time. The day that the champions were to be selected for the Triwizard Tournament. So it was that Albus Dumbledore finished his supper and patiently waited for the last few still eating to do the same. As the last person set down their fork the Great Hall fell silent, it was a tense silence full of excitement and anticipation, nearly everyone was eagerly awaiting the selection of the three champions for the Triwizard Tournament. 

Albus Dumbledore sat in the middle of it all with a small proud smile gracing his face and a gentle twinkle further brightening his already strikingly blue eyes. The Tournament had taken a great deal of effort from all of those involved in order to ensure it was safe for the participants, and almost as importantly, in Albus’ mind, sufficient entertainment for the audience. Their labours were soon to be generously rewarded with a spectacle grander than any before it. 

Albus could feel a faint buzzing beginning to rise from the goblet, like the opening strings of an Orchestra, his smile widened, everyone else would catch on soon enough. The anticipatory atmosphere in the room reached a peak when the flames dancing in the Goblet deepened in colour until they were a rich scarlet, at last it was ready to make its choices known. The buzzing Albus felt from the goblet increased and added to itself, pulling the eldritch energies filling the hall into its core. The Orchestra’s brass section was coming in full swing it seemed.

Faster than anyone expected, accompanied by a sensation reminiscent of a crash of cymbals, a huge wave of magic exploded harmlessly from the goblet and the flames burst forth rising almost to the enchanted ceiling. A single singed scrap of parchment sailed towards Albus' seat at the center of the head table. More gracefully than anyone his age had any right to be, Albus snatched the slip of parchment out of the air and read it to himself, ‘Victor Krum hmm? A good student and a professional seeker, very few get so far in life so early without earning it, he seems like a strong choice.’ With a small smile Albus called loudly to the assembled students, “Our first champion, chosen by the Goblet of Fire for the Durmstrang school of magic, is none other than Viktor Krum!” 

The hall erupted in cheers before he'd even finished his sentence, most of those gathered had watched or listened to the quidditch world cup and believed if Viktor could put on half the show he did then, then they should expect a truly magnificent show from this tournament. Through the cheers Albus caught Mr. Krum's eye and indicated a door to his right, he smiled when Mr. Krum walked through the door.

The cheers died down after Krum passed through the door, they ceased entirely when the goblet’s flames shifted into a gentle sky blue, the buzzing reminiscent of the brass section had dropped to a  _ piano  _ while Albus was distracted, a higher pitched buzzing, feeling not unlike woodwinds, took over, quickly rising through a  _ forte  _ into a  _ fortissimo _ . The buzzing steadied as though to hold a single note, then a pause, no longer than one breath, and the entire orchestra as one played a beautiful range of notes mingling into a single trilling chord, fading gently until the second wave of magic the goblet unleashed had reached the very edges of the hall. At the same moment Albus felt the Orchestra of magic start it’s chord, the flames rose a second time. Once again showing a deftness that would have been impressive for a man many years younger than he, Albus caught the second slip of parchment from the air, he idly read the name to himself, 'Fleur Delacour... ah that would be the young veela that Madame Maxime mentioned.' He paused a moment to look over the students, and to build a bit of suspense, Albus always did fancy himself a bit of a showman, his eyes settled on the Beauxbatons students, “Our second champion, representing Beauxbatons école de magie, is Fleur Delacour!” 

The cheers were not quite as loud this time, possibly because there weren't as many young ladies clapping, but they were no less enthusiastic. The young veela stood tall and proud as she made her way to the door at the back of the hall. 

The cheers died down quickly enough this time for Dumbledore feel the magic gather again, he decided to try adding to the anticipation, “That, dear students and honoured guests, leaves only one champion unselected, I am sure that whomever the goblet chooses will present worthy competition for Mr. Krum and Ms. Delacour.” 

Ghostly flames began to form at the feet of the pedestal the goblet stood upon. The buzzing felt akin to a deep throbbing bass quiet and distant at first, as the bass grew in intensity it became more distinct, a sharp but quiet report from a single tuba emphasized by the pounding of a lone drum with long pauses separating each note. The flames surged with every note Albus felt, the rest of the brass section began to accentuate the deeper blasts from the tuba, the woodwinds and strings started to quietly fill the gaps starting when the bass trailed off and ending with each new blast of the tuba. With each note it felt as though another tuba and another drum would join in, adding to the growing crescendo of energy. Albus knew most of the older mages in the room could feel the magic joyously playing it’s tune, it was a shame that so many of the students couldn’t.

Faster and faster the drums beat, keeping time with the deep brassy notes of the tubas, the flames rose and danced enveloping the goblet and merging with the flames emanating from within. The woodwinds had stopped filling the gaps and had instead shifted to an undulating string of notes that would rise and fall to accentuate the space between drum beats.

A flash of fire lit every corner of the hall in a citrine light in time with the highest peak of the magical crescendo and the goblet once again sent out a wave of energy. Albus displaying for a final time his incredible reflexes, caught the singed parchment from the air. ‘Ahh young Mr. Diggory, a fine choice.’ Albus held his arms just above the level of his shoulders and said, “The champion for Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry is... Hufflepuff's very own Cedric Diggory! Congratulations Mr. Diggory, please follow your fellow champions.” He managed to finish speaking just before the hall once again erupted in cheers, the Hufflepuff table populated by those dressed in yellow and black by far making the most noise.

As Albus waited for the cheers to die down he observed his students, few faces showed surprise, many showed respect, appreciation and even approval for young Cedric's selection. He was pleased to see no one resented the Goblet's choice, oh many were clearly envious but none seemed to hold any ill will toward Cedric.

Albus chose to end the cheers as they were tapering off by giving the speech he'd prepared, “The Goblet of fire has given us three champions who I'm certain will-”

The satisfied buzzing from moments ago unexpectedly exploded into a discordant angry screech and the headmaster was blinded by the blast of flame escaping the goblet, this one much larger and harsher than the others. While he blinked the spots from his eyes a final scrap of parchment fluttered down onto his dinner plate, he nearly didn't see it. He picked it up and lifted it to his eyes, upon reading the name inscribed on it a wave of emotions stilled his movements. Regret. For failing to protect the small family. Hatred. For the monster who cut their lives so short. But most of all he felt grief. Grief for one little boy and his parents. 

He shook his head once, the boy was dead, long dead, no power in this world could change that, Voldemort had ensured it. He blinked back the unpleasant memories, reminding himself that whatever had happened Voldemort destroyed himself along with his last victims and there was some solace to be found, meagre though it was. After a moment to get his thoughts completely back on track he pushed forth with the ceremony. 

“It seems that someone decided to play a prank on us, one in unfortunately poor taste.” He said slipping the final parchment into a pocket. “As I was saying I'm sure-” This time he was cut off by a rumble that shook the very foundations of the castle. Exclamations of surprise and alarm sounded from all sides of the great hall as the lights dimmed and began to sputter, barely holding on to the magic fueling them, a terrible keening arose from the goblet’s magic, many in the hall covered their ears, even if they didn’t know why, to try to alleviate the painful sensation.

The space in front of the goblet began to twist and distort, an unnatural crackling started, quietly at first but as the distortion grew worse it grew louder, quickly reaching a jarring crescendo, in miserable accompaniment to the goblet’s wails. The candles and torches failed completely and the ghosts fled through the walls in terror even the enchanted ceiling flickered and went out, leaving only mortar and stone above. 

In an instant the tempo of the horrible cacophony changed, somehow faster and more intense than before after several long painful seconds an ear splitting crack rang out, making the windows rattle and everyone nearby cringe away from the epicentre with ringing ears.

Albus stood from his seat and stared in disbelief at the middle of the room, there was a massive hole, in… space? Time? Magic? Reality itself? The surface of it shifted and writhed slowly, like ripples on a lake. 

A room could be seen through the new tear in reality. The room was poorly lit and the sounds of battle echoed from it, students near the hole who looked in began to scream and back away, some ran as quickly as they could toward the Great Hall's massive doors. One word could be heard clearly through the cacophony, 'Hydra'.

At that moment a small figure was flung bodily through the hole and slammed into the Head Table with enough force to crack the oak. The figure jumped into a standing position with a growl and ran back into the fray brandishing a sword wreathed in intense red flames. As the figure sprinted a loud hissing could be heard leaving its mouth, a sound that sent shivers down the spines of many in the room. Parseltongue had that effect on people these days.

Albus caught a glimpse of the creature the figure was engaging in mortal combat, the students who'd shouted Hydra were correct, but not even the hydra in the story of Herakles had grown to such tremendous size, the body of the beast looked like it could contain the entire head table with volume to spare. 

Over the sounds of combat he bellowed to the people in the hall, "GET AWAY FROM THE GOBLET, EVERYONE MOVE BACK!" 

Stunned students snapped out of their dazes and began to run to the edges of the hall, all took heed of the headmaster's warning. 

Astoundingly the enormous Hydra did not appear to have the upper hand in their deadly contest, of it's four heads three were missing and the stumps were blackened, bleeding masses of charred blistering flesh. The figure reached the Hydra and was climbing the single remaining neck, blazing sword sheathed as it climbed. Arrows rained from an unseen source into the beast's face, each one burrowing deeply into the flesh under the snake's iron hard scales. 

The figure, finally having climbed high enough up the beast's neck, unsheathed its blade and began to hack at any piece of flesh within arm's reach, each thrust and slash bit deeply into the creature’s neck, leaving scorched bleeding gashes* in its wake. The stench of burnt flesh and boiling blood was rapidly filling the hall, the sight of such horrific battle and the unbearable smell caused several students to lose their supper onto the flagstones. For Albus, the sight may have been new, but the smell was uncomfortably familiar. 

The creature writhed and hissed in a pitch so high Ablus would swear until his dying day it was screaming in agony and terror. Each slash of the figure’s blade brought more screeches from the creature, their volume was weakening rapidly, the sizzling sound of it’s blood boiling from the sword’s flame became audible over it’s pitiful death throes.

A moment later the figure swung its blade into the exposed and savaged throat of the Hydra one last time, the blow mercifully, for both the snake and those watching in horrified fascination, severed the snake's remaining head. The enormous lump of dead snake sailed from the spasming remains of its neck landing with a sickeningly wet thump scant meters from the high table.

Many throughout the expansive room watched in horror as the great snake's head sailed through the air, those who chose instead to stare at the figure turned after the sound it made upon landing. After the last of the sound echoed off the walls a silence born of awe and terror in equal measure fell throughout the hall. The silence stretched on, nearly everyone in the hall was too stunned to act. Those who were not braced themselves for combat.

Through this silence, absolute as death itself, footsteps began echoing from the hole in the middle of the Great Hall, the small figure re-emerged along with three others, two apparently male and one clearly female, all four had their weapons drawn. 

The center figure was dressed in a long surcoat that fell to its knees, and a cloak white as snow hung from it’s shoulders, little else of it's garb could be identified in detail as the hydra's blood coated everything else. The surcoat was a faded blue colour with an equally faded white cross in the shape of a two headed battleaxe emblazoned from the top where it met the neck down past where the blood left the pattern indistinguishable, the horizontal portion covered the figure’s small chest entirely. What could be seen of the figure’s sleeves was a bright silver with a wide metal band over it's upper arms, the right side included a bracer with the band. 

That was as much as Albus could make out before he directed his focus to the being's almost completely visible face. It's forehead was covered by a large circlet, his gaze moved lower and froze. He nearly refused to believe his eyes, he was looking into the face of a child! 

The child spoke, but Albus, so engrossed in taking in his features, heard nothing. The boy had emerald green eyes, shaggy black hair that fell slightly over the circlet on his forehead while also standing up in places that defied logic and sense, Albus asked faintly, "Harry? Is that you?" 

The child's cold stare broke as his brow furrowed in confusion, the woman standing behind the boy gained a pained expression, one of the men(?) turned away slightly with his face aimed squarely at the floor. "I am The Arisen," replied the boy in the high pitched voice of a child, his tone confused, "I know no other name ser."

The Arisen, seeing no response forthcoming, chose to ask several questions of his own, “Now, how did this,” the boy gestured behind himself to the hole in reality, “portal come to be? Moreover, why did it lead here? What is this place? Who are you ser? Are you the Lord of this castle?”

‘What an inquisitive boy.’ Albus thought to himself, he thought for a moment about the boy’s questions before answering, "If I were to guess I would say the portal, as you called it, was created by the Goblet located just behind it, it is afterall a powerful magical artifact. As to why it led here, I believe it summoned you. This place is Hogwarts, it is a school. I am Albus Dumbledore, and Hogwarts, while it is a castle, has no Lord, though I am the headmaster. I believe that answers all of your questions? Not satisfactorily I assume, but unfortunately not all questions have good answers." The boy nodded, not happily, but his confused expression faded into a cool neutrality rather than the angry coldness it held upon exiting the portal.

Albus spoke again, this time with a gentle smile, “That was a truly impressive display of martial prowess young man. Might I ask why you were battling that Hydra in the first place?”

The child’s answer was simple and to the point, “I was traversing Bitter Black Isle and happened upon it, I know not how it came to be there but I was not about to leave it alive.”

“I see, and could you not communicate with it?” Albus asked curiously.

“‘Twas a mad and twisted thing ser, seeking only death, destruction, and meat.”

An unpleasant memory from less than two years past floated to the surface of his mind, he pushed it back with a grimace and said, “Ah. Perhaps it was for the best you happened upon it.”

The boy nodded, apparently satisfied with the headmaster’s response, "I am curious, what, pray tell me, is a school?" Asked The Arisen, a noticeable tone of confusion once again colouring his words, "Ne'er have I heard of such a thing afore."

Surprised by the question Albus responded with the first thing that came to mind, "A school is an institute of learning, a place for young minds to grow and flourish."

"I…" The Arisen began slowly, "am not sure I understand, but I do not believe I have business here."

The smile on Albus' face faded leaving in its place an expression of regret, "I'm afraid that if you were, as I believe is the case, summoned by the goblet then you must compete in the tournament or risk dire consequences."

"I see." The Arisen's voice was almost ambivalent. The Arisen fell silent and appeared to lose himself in thought, the silence lasted until it was broken by the Headmaster.

"The Arisen sounds rather more like a title than a proper name, could you tell us how one so young came to bear such a title?" The old man prompted gently.

"The Dragon attacked the village I lived in, I attacked it." The child replied shortly.

‘A Dragon? What reason would a child have to attack a dragon?,’ Albus barely managed to avoid asking his question, loudly and incredulously, he rephrased his thoughts into something less indignant, he said, “Surely there is more to your story than that young man."”

“There is.” The Arisen acknowledged, his shoulders slumped slightly. 

He looked to his right, those who’d sat back down, for lack of anything else to do now that the crisis had ended, shifted further down the table to get away from him, they shoved a small blonde girl closer to him in their haste to escape. He looked at the small girl and raised an eyebrow, she tilted her head and smiled vacantly back. He shrugged and seated himself at the end of the table. 

He began his tale, "One morning in the middle of autumn I was found on the shore of a fishing village, the fishermen knew I was not born there as it was a small village and none could remember my birth, resources were too tight for any one family to take me in so I was raised by the community. The children did not trust me, they took to calling me Cass, which I eventually learned meant Cassardi. Cassardis is the name of the village, the older residents told me much later that to be called ‘Cassardi’ is to be called a citizen of the village." The boy's tone had grown more resentful as he spoke of his time in the fishing village. He stopped speaking for a time and from the shifting of his jaw he seemed to be grinding his teeth together. If the boy consented to spending some time with Poppy Albus would be sure to express his concerns regarding the state of the boy’s teeth. 

After a long pause and a deep breath he continued calmly, "Twas painful to learn I had no name to call my own.” he shook his head and said, mostly to himself, “Enough of that, it doesn’t matter. Talk of a dragon began..." The boy's brow furrowed as he tried to recall something, "Years ago. I am unsure precisely how long ago it was. Some time after the rumors started soldiers came to the village to recruit men to face The Dragon."

The Arisen laughed bitterly, "Twas as though the beast itself had heard their calls and rose to their challenge. The Dragon came and with it came fire hot enough to melt steel and claws hard enough to rend a castle’s walls from the foundations. It brought death and destruction… nearly all of the soldiers were killed within minutes of it’s arrival.”

His recounting paused for a time before he seemed to come back to the present, he continued his tale from where he’d left off, “The soldier’s corpses littered the village and everyone was running, many in their panic ran in front of The Dragon, thinking about it now I should have expected more of them to have been killed. I ran to one of the soldier's corpses, took his blade and assaulted The Dragon. I'd not expected to provide more than a moment's distraction but the great beast allowed me to hold it’s attention for some time, eventually it grew tired of toying with me.”

Albus noticed that the bo- The Arisen, spoke of this dragon as though it was the only dragon, and by the sounds of it it was a particularly large breed, possibly an Ironbelly?

His gaze had steadily travelled skyward throughout this leg of his tale, he seemed to be staring, puzzled, at something only he could see, “I was standing before The Dragon, staring up at it, when it swept one of it’s massive taloned hands across the ground, I saw it coming toward me and I did the only thing I could, I held the sword in my hand and slammed it forward as the beast’s claw struck. It struck me with such force that I was thrown onto my back some distance away.” he huffed out another bitter laugh, “The blade barely penetrated it’s hide. When I saw The Dragon’s massive face looming over me I…”

The Arisen trailed off, turning his face toward the ground with closed eyes, he shook his head. When he opened his eyes again his gaze remained fixed upon the flagstones, he said, “The Dragon spoke to me then, I did not hear it but I felt it’s breath upon me. Until the day I pass from this life I will remember what it did to me.”

The Arisen's hand rose to the middle of his chest and he began absently tracing the shape of something hidden beneath his clothes, his expression clouded with unease as he recommenced his tale, "It raised a single talon and held it over my chest.” The Arisen swallowed harshly, the entire hall was silent as it’s occupants hung on his every word, he continued speaking once more, “My chest- It stabbed it’s talon into my breast and tore out my still beating heart. I know not what happened afterward but I've not felt pain of it's like afore nor since."

The shocked and horrified faces of those in the hall were utterly missed by The Arisen, as were the pained and nearly tearful faces of two of his three companions. “Whatever The Dragon has done to me I've neither aged nor grown since, it has been…” 

Again the boy's face contorted in thought, "Quite some time, years, decades perhaps, since I challenged The Dragon." 

After finishing his short story The Arisen took a deep breath and stood. Before he could continue the conversation he froze and turned back toward the portal. He drew his still burning blade and spoke in a tone that made it clear he was not asking, "Clear the hall." 

Albus noticed a significant change in the smell lingering in the air, instead of asking questions he ordered, “Prefects, professors, get everyone out of the hall, now!" Unfortunately his command came too late, as through the portal he saw two enormous wolf-like creatures stalking toward The Arisen. 

The Arisen leapt into action, "Lily, distract one of them. Knight, James and I will kill the other then assist you. Hold a moment while I enchant our weapons with lightning." He raised his shield high above his head and began to intone a spell. His eyes remained fixed on the wolves.

"Yes Arisen." Came the woman's reply.

A moment later The Arisen slammed his fist into the upper corner of his shield and the weapons they held began to glow blue and crackle as they moved through the air.

The students meanwhile had been slowly moving towards the doors, that is until the first student caught a glimpse of the creatures that were about to pass through the portal. The students' terrified scream drew everyone’s attention to the portal, catching sight of the creatures rotting forms incited a panic and everyone was suddenly rushing for the door. Some of the braver, or, more likely, less intelligent, Gryffindors stood between the portal and the slower moving students of their house. 

The Arisen launched a preemptive strike against the enormous creatures in an attempt to hold their attention, he dashed at the closer of the two and slashed at it's front shoulder. The beast growled and bit at him, it’s jaws missed him by less than a hand's span as he continued his run towards the creature's rear. The figure The Arisen addressed as James began firing arrows, as many as ten at once, at the creature's head in order to confuse it and give The Arisen a better opening. Knight meanwhile held his staff in front of him and the head glowed with electrical energy, a moment later he thrust his staff into the air and bolts of lightning rained from the ceiling onto the creature. 

The beast itself however, only became more angry as the assault continued, it lashed out with tooth and claw at The Arisen, when it couldn't reach him it changed tactics and ran toward those who dared attack it.

Dumbledore was doing his best to help evacuate the students before the creatures took notice of them, he caught Minerva's eye and nodded toward the tables in the middle of the room, she nodded back. Together they began to transfigure the large tables into stone barricades that would keep the creatures hemmed in and buy the students a few more moments to escape. 

His concentration was obliterated by the sight of a spell, a wand spell, flying through the air toward the massive rotting bulk of the wolf, he realized distantly that one of the students fired a bludgeoning spell at the creature closest to him. Albus could only watch in horror as the creature stopped chasing The Arisen and whipped around to investigate the new pitiful threat. It's eyes fell on the red haired boy who attacked it, it growled and lunged at him. Albus didn't have any time to intervene as the beast's teeth crushed the boy's arm. He screamed as his arm was ripped apart by the beast's teeth, destroying Minerva's concentration and the progress she'd made in transfiguring the other table.

The beast swallowed and it's gaze wandered from the boy on the floor clutching at what was left of his arm to the dark skinned girl behind him and the limping form she was assisting. The limping girl looked to the blood dripping fangs of the wolf and shoved the Indian girl away from the beast. She drew her wand and yelled, "Run Parvati, I'll try to stall it," She mumbled to herself, "I don't have much chance getting away now anyway. Worthless fucking Weasley."

The Indian girl was frozen in place as she watched the beast stalk toward her friend all the while shrugging off arrows that had previously punched through the scales of a Hydra. Dumbledore and McGonnogall wasted no time in sending spells to draw the beast's attention away from the girl, Albus chanced a glance over his shoulder and saw the other two warriors were busy, and too far away, trying to get the second wolf off the woman dressed in heavy steel armour. 

The girl came to her senses quickly and shouted to her friend, "I can't just leave you here Hermione, it'll kill you." She fumbled for her wand, distantly she heard wood clattering on the floor near her feet, her shaking hands unable to properly hold the thin bit of wood. 

“I know.” Hermione said, mostly to herself. She brought her wand up and turned to the Patil girl and cast her best banishing charm, she hoped Parvati would end up too close to the door to try to come back. 

“Thanks for everything Parvati.” said Hermione once again to herself. 

The Creature saw an opportunity to strike once the crippled girl turned her back, ignoring the small pains from the spells and arrows impacting its flanks, it covered the remaining distance in a single jump. The stench of the creature's breath barely had time to register before it’s jaws closed over her and crushed the girl's upper body between its teeth. It’s jaws snapped her ribs without any resistance and crushed her lungs and heart without any effort. She was dead before the creature had finished closing its mouth. 

Dumbledore, upon seeing the creature kill a second student, began throwing more destructive and powerful spells at it hoping to find something that would finally draw its attention. 

“Albus! Garm are weak against lightning and fire!” Yelled the man loosing arrows, his voice was hauntingly familiar, but Albus couldn’t place it. 

Albus quickly changed tactics to account for this new information and he began sending deadly lightning spells at the garm, he was astounded when his spells hit the creature with less than half the impact he expected. His spells, though less damaging than expected, still left scorch marks on the creatures flank and whirled around to face him, the corpse fell from its mouth as it opened it's jaws to snarl at him. 

Undaunted the Headmaster began sending conjured and transfigured javelins at the beast, some hit the creature's face others impacted it's forelegs. The garm advanced slowly on the Headmaster, one eye completely ruined from the many arrows and javelins biting into it. The creature was heavily damaged and Albus wanted it dead for what it had done to his students, in a rage he hadn't felt in decades he threw spells at the creature faster and more forcefully than any in the hall had ever seen. Blades, javelins, and bolts of lightning powerful enough that they may well have been torn from the heavens themselves rained down upon the beast. But still it refused to die.

Thunder boomed around the castle, shattering the windows in the hall, light and heat filled The Great Hall, the sharp smell of ozone mingled with that of burned flesh and bile, but still the beast endured, so with a final rush of rage and unrestrainable hatred Albus did something incredibly stupid. He drew upon every scrap of magical energy he could reach, never once slowing his assault on the beast, quickly he formed the mass of magical energies into a flame, he drew more and more energy from the area and poured it into the flame, compressing it into a tiny pinprick of light as the beast stalked toward him, he kept pouring magic into the flame until it became so hot and so bright it made his lightning spells look like static shocks. And he waited. 

He waited until the Garm was close, he waited until it opened its mouth to lunge at him, and he waited until he could feel it’s breath on his face and then he set his creation on it. In an instant the pinprick exploded into an unholy inferno as Ablus sent it down the monster’s throat, everyone still in the hall had to shield their eyes and turn away to avoid being blinded and burned, even those farthest away from the creature. 

The force of the magic sent the garm careening back into the table at the side of the hall where it landed in a heap of splinters and broken planks. Steam rose from the beast’s hide, the wood of the table began to burn from the heat of the fires still burning inside the garm. Albus stood from where he’d been thrown by the blast, his ears rang, he could barely see from all of the spots and phantom branches of lightning clouding his vision and he watched. That spell would have reduced even the most resilient dragon to vapour, there shouldn’t have been enough of the creature left to sweep into a dustbin, yet it’s body looked largely intact. Whatever the hell this creature was Albus was damned glad there weren’t more of them around.

The massive form shifted. Albus couldn’t believe his eyes, it still wasn’t dead? Slowly the beast stood, the charred, blackened skin of it’s hindquarters cracked and split with the movement, it turned to face him, teeth bared in a snarl and the last vestiges of Albus’ fire spell flickering out of the creature’s nostrils. It took a step toward Albus and there was a quiet creaking sound as the creature shifted its weight forward to take another step. The Headmaster lifted his wand as high as his shaking hands would allow and tried to draw more magic to himself, there wasn’t much left but it would have to last until the leylines replaced what he’d used, he just hoped to live that long. The Garm took a second step, there was more creaking louder than the last time. On its third step toward Albus the beast’s leg snapped and it fell to the floor, leaving a greasy bloody smear on the flagstones as it settled. 

The Headmaster released his hold on what little magic was left in the area and was left gasping for breath. He stared into the open maw of the dead monstrous wolf and saw nothing but cracked blackened teeth and blood thick and dark as sludge. 

A hand on his shoulder reminded him that another threat to the students remained. Albus turned toward the remaining Garm and his knees buckled. He reached out to grasp the magic once more and he almost literally felt it slip through his fingers, he was just too tired and there wasn’t enough left for him to do anything with after letting it disperse.

That hauntingly familiar voice spoke again but Albus still couldn’t place it, "Albus we've got the last one, get everyone else to safety." Breathing heavily Albus had no choice but to nod and help the remaining staff and students evacuate the hall. 

The second garm was badly wounded and backed away from the two warriors and their blades, it took a deep breath through its nose and its head turned. Lily caught sight of a small blonde child lying face down by one of the benches and panic shot through her body, the beast was going to run and try to take her with it. Lily took a single slow step to put herself between the garm and the girl but the beast was cunning, it dashed away from its enemies, towards it’s chosen meal. The beast bit down on the girl's leg and sprinted through the portal while The Arisen gave chase, the garm passed through the portal and stopped behind a column in the large room. 

The Arisen came through the portal an instant later but the beast had begun devouring the poor girl, already her legs were gone, he called to James, “Stand next to me and get it's attention, I shall end the beast.” He raised his blade into the air and began to intone another spell just as James took aim at the garm. The first volley of arrows impacting it's skull made the garm stop eating, the second made it angry enough to protect it’s meal from the interloper. 

The Arisen remained focused on the beast as it closed the distance, he spoke the words of the spell and summoned the energy as quickly as he could. He had barely finished intoning the spell at the same moment the garm leapt toward them, as the beast’s jaws were about to close he said with a grim smile, "It's over." and plunged his blade into the blood encrusted floor all the way to the hilt, pillars of stone erupted from the earth around them and slammed into the garm’s body, crushing it’s bones and rending it’s rotted hide. Shards and chunks of stone alike were blasted into the creature's underside, punching gaping holes through it’s skin. The combination of exploding rock and stone pillars was finally enough to kill the weakened beast. 

The beast’s savaged and broken corpse fell to the ground in front of The Arisen, he shook his head and said, "I'll retrieve the girl's body and we'll return to the hall." He walked over to the girl and looked at her, she was tiny, slim and blonde, dressed in black robes trimmed with blue and bronze. Her face had some blood on it from a head wound which hadn't bled much, she'd died much too quickly for that. Beneath the blood was a face he recognized, she was the girl who’d been pushed down the table as everyone else ran away from him.

He lifted the girl by her arms and threw her onto his shoulder, he turned and strode back through the portal. He continued to one of the tables and laid the corpse on it gently. His companions gathered around behind him. He turned to Lily and asked, “How many dead?”

“Only four, it would have been less if that idiot boy hadn't gotten the Garm's attention.” Lily snarled.

The Arisen nodded and asked, “Wakestones?”

The armoured woman reached into a pouch on her belt, after a moment she said, “Six, Arisen.”

He nodded again, “Give me four, I'm going to have a chat with that stupid boy.” He said calmly.

James cut in, “Are you certain Arisen?”

“I would prefer to use them on one of those who deserve it first, but he shan’t learn anything if he does not see what he's done.”

He clarified his question, “I meant are you certain you wish to use them at all.”

The arisen nodded once again, “I am, they do not deserve to die because we drew the beasts here.”

Lily nodded, a small proud smile gracing her face, as she removed four large slightly glowing red stones from her belt and handed them to The Arisen. The boy walked in measured steps toward the two corpses next to the enormous stained glass window on one side of the hall, with one jagged stone in his hand. He knelt near the boy who'd lost his arm, he looked at the spot where the garm had torn the boy's arm off, he'd died very quickly once the garm's diseased saliva had gotten into his blood, he barely had enough time to be terrified. The Arisen pressed the stone in his hand to the boy's chest and waited. Slowly the stone began to glow, soon after it quickly dissolved and the boy's arm grew back, a moment later the boy was breathing, shortly thereafter the boy woke with a gasp.

Albus returned to the hall in time to see The Arisen approach the youngest Weasley boy's corpse with a faintly glowing red stone, he watched curiously at first to see what the young man was doing, his curiosity became amazement as the red head's arm grew back and the boy began to breathe.

The Arisen gripped the boy's collar and hauled him into a standing position, "Well  _ boy _ are you proud of yourself?" It astounded Albus to hear how much hatred The Arisen could fit into a single word.

"Wot?" He appeared to be dazed after being hauled to his feet.

His stunned state only earned him a slap across the face from the back of The Arisen's gauntlet covered hand. "I asked you if you were proud of yourself. You got what you wanted, we had the beast under control until you distracted it."

"I did, so what? And what the bloody hell was that for? I was trying t-"

The Arisen's anger was only visible on his face from the way his jaw seemed to be slowly and forcefully shifting from side to side. The Arisen wrapped his free hand around the boy's throat and forced him to look at the mangled remains of the girl the beast killed after swallowing his arm. 

"Well boy? How do you feel now? Did you still make the right choice? It did that immediately after it finished with you." His grip was far stronger than the ginger's, the red haired boy was clawing desperately at The Arisen's hands to escape, or look away.

The girl's shirt and robes were shredded, strips of her skin hung loosely from shattered bones, enormous holes made by monstrous teeth crushing and rending the flesh left visible the pulverized remains of her heart and lungs. The pool of blood containing small pieces of her shredded organs had expanded until it was nearing their feet.

The Arisen looked away from the unfortunate girl and forced the redhead's gaze to meet his own, "The next time you're told to run, I want you to think long and hard before you decide not to do as you are told. Get out." 

He let go of the boy who stumbled backward and landed painfully on the cold flagstones and stared up at The Arisen in terror.

"I SAID GET OUT!" The Arisen thundered.

The boy turned and was running even before he'd properly stood up. The Arisen turned back to the unfortunate girl's corpse, he was thankful wakestones could restore even a skull pulverized by an Eliminator's hammer, a fact he'd learned from surprisingly painless experience... aside from the incredible headache he'd suffered upon his own resurrection. He stepped carefully into the pool of blood until he was close enough to press a wakestone to the shattered remnants of the girl's chest. The stone lit a fiery red and energy poured off of it in waves as it began to repair the damage.

The girl took longer to revive, it wasn't terribly surprising, she'd suffered much more damage. Her heart and lungs healed first, then the rest of the pulverized organs in her chest cavity, her ribs and flesh followed quickly after. The scarring on her face and legs, the oldest damage, was the last to heal. 

She looked... smaller than she had before, after a long moment the girl began to breathe again, she did not wake with a start or a gasp but rather, a resigned sigh. "How long have I been out this time Madam Pomfrey? And which of my limbs was damaged beyond your ability to heal? I feel... better. Better than I have since before-" she stopped speaking and sprang into a sitting position opened her eyes. She didn't spare him more than a glance, her hands quickly roved over her face, chest and legs. 

“I'm... not dead, and I'm…” She visibly collected herself and turned to address the only person nearby. “You're not Madam Pomfrey... where am I? Why am I sitting in a pool of blood?”

The strange boy said, “I am The Arisen.” 

“You…” She squinted at the small boy kneeling near her, “You killed that Hydra, and then you told us that terrible story, and those monstrous wolves came.”

He didn’t seem to be listening as he removed his cloak and held it out to her, “Your clothes do not seem to fit any longer, and were it that they did they are not in any state fit to be worn."

She looked down at herself, her shredded shirt and robe left her nearly naked from the waist up, she blushed and quickly grabbed at the offered cloak. How the hell did that happen? Pressing it to her chest she croaked, “Thank you. I was sure I was going to die and you…”

“Think nothing of it ser, you did not deserve to suffer simply because of my presence.” He explicitly chose not to mention his opinion on the one who drew the beast's attention to her in the first place.

Hermione tried to reconcile her memories of what happened with the evidence surrounding her, the last thing she could remember was banishing Parvati as close to the doors as she could, she couldn’t remember why though. After that there was... nothing distinct... but if she focused hard enough she could almost remember... something... a horrible feeling deep in her chest, not an emotion but something physical, like her lungs being squeezed in a vise and pain, different from the troll’s club, more like… being stabbed by several thick spikes… The feeling brought with it such a profound sense of regret and hopelessness that she physically recoiled from the memory. She cast her gaze around the floor and tried not to think of how her memory could be connected to the pool of... What was that white splinte- Oh god, that was part of a bone- if it was connected to her mem- no no nonono, the monster couldn't have- her increasingly frantic thoughts were interrupted by the boy shifting his weight as if to stand.

“Now if there is nothing else you wish to know I'm afraid I must attend to-” She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his small chest, sobbing uncontrollably. 

The Arisen stilled, many who were revived reacted this way and he was always baffled as to why. The first time it had happened to him he’d been thrown to the ground and a goblin jumped onto his back, a small prick at the base of his skull and then he was dead. He woke up wondering what had happened, James explained that the goblin caught him after the drake sent him flying. He asked how he’d been brought back, James explained that the recently completed wakestone in their possession served to revive the dead and that was that. 

It happened to him often enough that he made sure to always have a handful of wakestones in his pack, it seemed like the sensible thing to do. He turned his head to look at Lily and then glanced in confusion at the girl holding him hostage. The proud smile adorning her face vanished, replaced by an expression he couldn't identify, it wasn't happy and it made him uncomfortable, it was almost as though he'd done something to hurt her simply by being confused. 

Still, she walked over to him and gently extricated him from the girl's death grip, leaving him free to continue distributing the wakestones. When they'd seated themselves a little way away from the crimson pool he walked away to find the next person in need of revival.

As he walked away Lily whispered gently to the sobbing girl, “Shh, it's ok honey, the monster is gone.”

The sobs distorting Hermione's next words would have been difficult to decipher if Lily hadn't heard some variation of them more times than she'd care to count, “Why did he leave me?”

“He... doesn't understand why you're upset, that you need someone to be here for you right now. He’s been killed so many times… Death is little more than a temporary set back”. Lily paused and hung her head, after a moment she spoke her voice barely a whisper, “Still, tis not an excuse and I am truly sorry he has hurt you so.”

The girl’s racking sobs followed The Arisen to the next corpse. This one was a young woman, dressed similarly to those who were at the same table as the old man. From the blackness in her veins he surmised that the garm’s breath killed her. It might have been quick but… he shook his head, there were  _ many  _ other ways he would prefer to die. 

He knelt down and pressed the third wakestone to the woman’s chest. Almost immediately the stone lit up, illuminating the young woman’s body in a warm red light, the blackness rapidly evaporated from her veins starting, presumably, at her chest and flowing outward to the rest of her body. Once the blackness completely faded the stone dissolved into her chest. 

The Arisen barely had to wait but before the young woman rose with a gasp. Before he could speak she was in motion looking frantically about the room, she all but shouted, “Where is Miss Lovegood? Someone knocked her down and she hit her head, I don’t think she was moving.”

Knocked down and hit her head… that description matched the girl who’d been taken by the garm, he hadn’t seen anyone else on the ground. He held the woman by the shoulder and said, “Calm down Ser, Miss Lovegood will be fine momentarily. I must insist that you stop attempting to stand, the danger has passed and it will only serve to disorient you further. ”

“What do you mean ‘will be?’” she snarled back.

“She, like yourself and two others was killed by the garm,” The woman’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak, The Arisen raised his hand, presenting the fourth wakestone to her face, “I have used these to revive three of you, only Miss Lovegood is left.”

“She’s… dead?” The woman’s voice shook and she seemed to be on the verge of tears, but disbelief and hope covered her face, “Please if there’s anything you can do, please save her. She doesn’t-” her voice cut off with a sob and her hands came up to cover her face.

The Arisen stood and headed to the table upon which the final corpse laid. With the same lack of ceremony and reverence as those previous he pressed the stone into the small girl’s chest and waited. After a moment his thoughts began to drift, what could have brought the garm here? They had never entered the Rotunda of Dread afore, could it have been the portal that led them here? The smell of living flesh, the lack of decay? 

He shook his head and returned his focus to the girl before him. The stone wasn’t glowing, stranger still, it remained in his hand, he glanced down where her legs should be, they hadn’t grown back. His brow furrowed, the stone hadn’t worked? What caused it to fail? 

“James!” he barked. 

The archer was at his side in less than a moment and he spoke before James could open his mouth, “This wakestone did not work, get me another.” he thrust it into the man’s hand.

James looked at the girl, a feeling of profound sadness bloomed in his chest, he felt compelled to speak, “Arisen, it-”

The glare he received stopped him mid sentence, instead he closed his eyes and hung his head, “Yes Arisen.” he whispered.

He returned to Lily and held the softly glowing stone out to her, the moment she laid eyes on it she looked to the girl on the table. She stopped rubbing Hermione’s back and brought her hand over her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes. 

“He has requested another stone.” James said quietly.

“It won’t-” her voice trembled as much as her hand did as she reached for the pouch in her blet.

“I know.” He responded, his tone was resigned. 

The warmth of the stone felt like it was mocking her as her fingers curled around it, slowly she removed it from the pouch and handed it to James. He placed the original one in her palm and walked away with downcast eyes. She stared hollowly at the stone in her hand, maybe it was her imagination but now it felt like it was laughing at her,  _ at them. _ For meddling in things they had no right to. For playing God.

“She’s just a child, why would she…?” she mumbled to herself as her tears began to fall.

The Arisen glanced up from the cooling corpse in front of him when he heard James come close and held out his hand. James silently handed him the new wakestone, upon receiving the stone he wasted no time in pressing it directly to the girl’s chest and waiting. 

Without looking up from where his hand held the stone to her chest he said, “James, It isn’t working.”

James took a moment to gather himself, he blinked away the tears that were forming and swallowed harshly, he said quietly, “No Arisen, it is not.”

The boy barked, “Why?”

James closed his eyes and said, “There are not very many reasons that a Wakestone could fail. The most likely…” 

The Arisen was getting impatient, “Yes?” he asked sharply, demanding an answer.

Sorrow was rapidly turning into frustration, did The Arisen have no empathy whatsoever? He said stiffly, “Most likely the girl has no desire to return to life.”

The Arisen stared at him uncomprehendingly, “What?” 

The utter lack of understanding in The Arisen’s tone was the last straw and James’ frustration boiled over, he snarled back condescendingly, “She wishes herself dead Arisen! She feels that her life isn’t worth living! That seems like something you should understand, having thrown yourself at The Dragon’s feet!” Seeing The Arisen’s expression shift from incomprehension to deeply hurt caused his anger to evaporate immediately, crushing guilt flooded in to fill the void left behind.

His words echoed around the hall like a thunderclap. A keening wail arose from the young professor, she collapsed to the floor mumbling incoherently to herself. 

James’ words struck The Arisen like blows, his hand went to his chest and he almost felt The Dragon’s talon pressing into him, the phantom agony was nearly unbearable, but even that pain didn’t compare the pain that motivated him to face The Dragon. He quickly turned away from James, returning his gaze to th- Miss Lovegood.

James reached out to The Arisen and tried to speak, the boy cut him off before he’d finished the first syllable, “If you wish to apologize, please hold your tongue.” his voice was quiet and firm but not angry, “You have made your point and I understand, please leave me be.”

Was it true? Could she have hated her life as much as he once did? So much so that even death seemed preferable? He hadn’t felt that way in so long… Ha! After what The Dragon did he hadn’t had enough respite to feel much of anything, there was always some distraction, always another battle, another quest, another monster. And he always rose to the challenge, never stopping, never yielding, never taking even a moment to relax. He gently took the girl’s cold hand and stared at it.

A mixture of emotions he hadn’t felt in what may well have been lifetimes rose up until he could barely breathe through the feeling in his chest. He took a deep breath and spoke to her, “I am truly sorry that so many have failed you. That  _ we _ failed you.” He squeezed her hand slightly, “I know not if life is worth living, but you should have had more time to decide.” He paused for a moment before nodding to himself, he leaned in and whispered in her ear, “I will return and try again, every day, until there is no hope that you will return.” 

The Arisen rose and crossed the hall to where Professor Dubmledore stood, he looked up until he met the old wizard’s eyes and said, “I have done what I can ser, I am sorry I could do no more.”

Albus knelt down to bring himself face to face with The Arisen, he placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and said, “You’ve done more than I thought possible, more than anyone could have ever thought possible. I would offer my most sincere appreciation for protecting my staff and students.”

“Think nothing of it ser,” the boy said quietly, his eyes flicked to the floor and when they once again met Albus’ his expression was neutral, he said, “If I am to be competing in a tournament I will need accommodations, it would be in the the best interests of all if I were to remain within this hall. I ask only for enough beds for myself and my three companions.”

The change in his demeanour would have been startling if Albus hadn’t seen it in many others, he said, “I’ll see that it is arranged.”

With a final nod The Arisen turned and walked back to speak with James. Albus watched him for a moment before shifting his own focus to everything that now needed to be done.

**Author's Note:**

> * I learned something not too long ago about cauterization, apparently it is a very delicate surgical procedure and not something that can be done using, say, a blowtorch or a flaming sword. If I recall correctly it is because fire and intense heat are not precise enough to avoid damaging surrounding tissues, thus flaming sword = bleeding wounds. I thought it was interesting.
> 
> I realize it got rather melodramatic at the end, I'm not sure if I handled it well or not, I think I did but either way I'm content with it.
> 
> I have no idea when I'll have another chapter to add to this story, I have three to five different projects going, not including the obvious one, an original story I'm working on. So yeah... Sorry?


End file.
